Thursday, March 3, 2011

birthdays

Thirty-seven (and a nod to my big brother who is thirty-nine today). Time is such a strange thing, it ticks and tocks with abandon and the form dances to its rhythm with frenetic urgency. The essential Self remains unchanged, watching with an openness that astonishes.

The Earth laughs colors on a wide horizon

I am often asked why I do art. Art isn't something I do. Art is like breathing and seeing. Art is a force that gives my life it's perspective and clarifies the limited vantage point of my vision. Art provides the framework, the alphabet if you will, for the personal vocabulary and diction that is uniquely mine. I think the same holds true for all of us. Our creativity, whatever it may be, provides an outlet for our still silent voices, beckoning us on to greater heights and wider horizons. Coaxing and teasing out the greatness from the rubble and providing a foundation on which to stand, to peer out, to witness the life all around us.